


just a turn of phrase

by AlexandrinTea



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M, Pre-Relationship, first line prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23534257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexandrinTea/pseuds/AlexandrinTea
Summary: Gavin should be more careful about choosing his words, if he doesn't want them to be taken out of context.
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 5
Kudos: 162





	just a turn of phrase

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a first line prompt chosen for me by my friend Gara - thank you for the inspiration! 💖
> 
> Edit: This was written about a month before Detroit Evolution came out, and posted just a few days prior (bc I'm forgetful). So in a sense it was based purely on my (and the fandom's) own headcanons for the characters. It's not *meant to be* compliant with DE canon, and probably isn't. But I also feel glad I got this out of my system just in time, because hoo boy, from now on I won't be able to write a single word about these two without it being directly inspired by DE. 😅
> 
> Also: I totally HC Gavin as someone with ADHD, DE canon doesn't explicitly disprove that either, it's my neurodivergence and I get to project it on my favourite fictional characters. If you dislike that, you can meet me in the fucking pit. 🤣

“You can borrow mine, he’s usually a pain in the ass. How do you even lose an android, anyway? I couldn’t get rid of the plastic asshole if I tried,” Gavin says, and makes a sound that’s halfway between a laugh and a snort. Hank doesn’t even deign to answer him, only waves him off and stomps off towards the forensic labs upstairs, muttering to himself.

“Dammit, Connor, how do you always manage to disappear just when I need you?”

Gavin shrugs and turns back to his desk and the depressingly big folder of files open on his screen. He’s very thankful for the momentary distraction, since he’s really in no mood to actually start untangling the seemingly unrelated jumble of information contained in them, but he knows he has to get down to it sooner or later. He looks wistfully towards the break room and even considers getting up for a cup of coffee, but ultimately he knows that it would just be another way to try and procrastinate a little.

He groans, buries his face in his hands for a moment, then pulls his chair closer and begins to read with a defeated sigh.

The day goes on. Gavin usually loses all sense of time when he gets engrossed in a task, so he really has no idea how long it is, or even whether it’s minutes or hours until he hears someone say his name right behind him. The sudden noise, especially coming from so close, makes him half leap out of his chair with an undignified yelp.

“I’m sorry, did I startle you?”

Gavin spins around to angrily stare up into the android’s face. By now, he knows to expect an unfailingly polite expression, the steel blue gaze without a hint of apology, in spite of his earlier words. Nines does not disappoint.

“Yeah, you fuckin’ startled me, you asshole! And don’t come with that ‘I’m sorry’ bullshit, I’m not buyin’ that crap from you for a second.”

Gavin’s sure he just saw Nines’ lips curl, though almost imperceptibly so. Thankfully, he’s spent enough time studying the android’s handsome face to be able to catch even such a small shift. 

“And get that stupid grin off your face,” he spits, even though Nines’ current expression is barely above the faintest suggestion of an amused smile. Still, Gavin knows better. “What do you want?”

“I’ve noticed you haven’t moved from your desk in quite a while, Detective,” the android says in a conversational tone. “Five hours and forty-six minutes, to be precise.” He then thrusts a brown paper bag and a plastic cup into Gavin’s hands. “It’s past lunchtime, but then again you never were one for regular meals.” The last bit Gavin notes as Nines’ usual well-concealed brand of sarcasm. He opens the bag and peers into it cautiously. Even if he didn’t recognize the wrapping paper or the hastily scrawled letters on it (no tomatoes, no onion, extra avocado, extra bacon; his usual order), the smell would have instantly tipped him off. Shit, he hadn’t realised how hungry he was getting, but now it takes all his self-control to refrain from just  _ inhaling _ the contents of the bag straight away.

“Thanks, Nines,” he manages, a little strained but sincere. He sits back down, puts his feet up on his desk and wastes no time peeling back the wrapper to take the first bite of his sub.

It’s  _ so good _ . He isn’t even surprised that Nines remembered his favorite — he’s a robot after all, it’s not like it’s hard for him to collect and recall information about the person he works with. Not to mention, while Gavin’s only human with a far more modest capacity for data storage, he knows and remembers stuff about his partner almost as well. Nines has no patience for people playing the victim when they are clearly at fault. Nines prefers to walk on Gavin’s left side. Nines has a liking for rainy weather that makes no logical sense, considering he’s an android and should not have a preference at all. Gavin is sure that if Nines were capable of digestion, he would also know his sandwich order by now.

He’s so focused on this train of thought — and devouring his lunch — that he only notices Nines again when he’s already finishing up the last few bites; even though the android must have nudged his feet out of the way to be able to lean against his desk. Gavin looks up from his sandwich and finds the android looking at him intently with crossed arms, the same almost-amused almost-smile playing on his lips.

“What?” Gavin asks, slightly muffled, regretting the fact that he tried to cram the last two bites’ worth of food into his mouth at the same time.

“So, yours, huh?” Gavin hates how the damn piece of plastic insists on being as cryptic as fucking possible, while looking at Gavin like he could read his earliest childhood memory straight off his face. Must be the eyes — except Connor can do the same thing and the eyes of the two RK models couldn’t be more different.

“What,” Gavin repeats, more flatly this time, after swallowing the last of his lunch.

“You can borrow mine, he’s usually a pain in the ass,” Nines says, in an eerily perfect imitation of Gavin’s voice. It never fails to creep Gavin the fuck out.

“Ugh, cut it out, Nines! You know I hate it when you do that.” Gavin shudders. It takes a few seconds for Nines’ implication to reach him.

Yeah, he might have said that. So what? It was just a joke. And it was fucking hilarious, even though Hank didn’t appreciate it, but then again when did Hank ever appreciate anything?

It’s not like he meant anything by it. After all, like it or not, Nines is his partner. Wasn’t too big of a reach to call him  _ his _ android, right? It didn’t imply ownership, just — just a feeling of… belonging? In a certain sense? Maybe even one that seemed to go both ways?

Gavin realises that he’s spent the last half a minute just staring off into the distance, chewing his bottom lip, while Nines kept his patient but unrelenting gaze on his face.

“It was just a stupid turn of phrase,” he finally says with a huff. Nines quirks an eyebrow in his own insufferably subtle way, and Gavin starts to get flustered. “I didn’t say I own you or anything, if that’s what’s gotten you so agitated.” Gavin is aware that no-one in their right mind would call Nines’ current state agitated, but he spoke before thinking as usual. “I won’t say it again.”

Maybe it’s unintentional, or perhaps even in spite of himself, but he catches himself saying the last bit in a much milder, gentler tone. It’s almost like he wants Nines to understand the apologetic intent behind it.

Gavin will never know whether Nines caught his meaning, however. The android smiles at him (an actual, all-out smile, not just the beginnings of one — that’s a rare sight in itself), pushes himself away from Gavin’s desk and begins to leave. But not without letting his hand brush against Gavin’s shoulder, and bowing close to Gavin’s ear to softly say:

“Actually, I might enjoy hearing it. From you.”

And as he walks away, Gavin is infinitely thankful that Nines remembered his beverage of choice was iced coffee. He feels like he’s going to need all the cooling down he can get.


End file.
